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JB

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Hangover Hair

I always keep my hair in one of two ways: Horribly unkempt in a loose pony (my bedtime hair) or just let it hang open. I always spend time on tumblr lusting over the long luscious waves, pony braids, short up do’s and my favourite the high maintenance do’s that make you look like you just rolled out of bed. However with the hair that is lifeless, limp and very thin, most of these do’s would never make it out of the bathroom, and if they do they have a miserable life span of about five minutes. But as per yooge as with any other short term fads I’ve been into the best look comes from a mistake. The last make-up look I wore basically 24/7 was the aftermath of me over using my new eyeshadow palette and how it looked after the first make-up remover swipe at the end of a long night. The look stayed with me for a good two months until I over perfected it, and it wasn’t good anymore. The same finally happened with my hair. While a good friend of mine came to visit me for the weekend we had major plans of night life and sightseeing.This, at the ‘mature’ age of twenty, means that if visiting any city, you haven’t truly visited the city until you’ve had a crazy night out including, booze, strangers and multiple stories that do not start with “when I was eating a salad”. Being myself at the age of twenty, I suffered through a long night out at a questionable club (supposably the highlight of London nights out; but last time I checked live porn isn’t on my list of a night well spent) and the unfortunate day after it happened, nonchalant hair perfection. Determined to show my friend around London I forced my self out of the apartment. (A thing you need to know about me, ever since the age of 18 I’ve suffered from severe hangovers, one might say I’m even allergic to alcohol.) That very day my well being was as bad as the taste of the aforementioned nights burlesque act, and since we slept through all of the little sunlight London has to offer I decided to jump on a bus with my friend and do some night sight seeing. It was all very good until we got to somewhere around Lancaster gate when whatever I had tried to have had for breakfast no longer wanted to reside in my stomach. Needless to say we got off the bus. Still determined, and unfortunately puking out my guts around London we finally made it to the overly british restaurant. In between trying to get a single french fry in my mouth, and running to the bathroom every five minutes to regurgitate said french fry, the end of my ponytail was getting super annoying. In between folding the end of the pony tail in a loose bun and the rest of my hair falling out from the movement, I ended up going from a hungover mess to a nonchalant friday night look. The hair do has now been my go to look for anything from going to uni, or meeting up with work mates to discuss future proposals. Can’t wait for the next accident that’ll create my new look. Hopefully it won’t be the aftermath of hurricane tequila. Happy Wednesday!